Know Your Enemy
by xhaiiro
Summary: [Darkshipping: Yami no Yuugi x Yami no Bakura] “History has a tendency to repeat itself, though I don’t expect you’d remember that either.”


"Who are you?" Yami no Yuugi demands -- expression even, voice unwavering -- no sign of weakness visible. Distinctly he remembers a face from the past, and a shock of violently white hair; though even from such close proximity, he cannot name this demon. The darkness is stifling around him, though his resolve does not falter even slightly. "Answer me!"

The boy across from him smirks, shadows dancing in his eyes. "I am a thief and a stealer of souls." Yami does not react to this; instead searching his mind desperately for Yuugi, but there is no response to his alarmed call of _aibou, where are you?_

"He has been sealed by the shadows." Bakura traces a pointed, elegant finger across the edge of a card, still smirking deviously. The other's distress is an amusement to him. A sharp glare from the former Pharaoh does nothing to lessen his glee. The shadows shift among the lifeless bodies of Yuugi and his friends, away from the thief, allowing Yami a better view. "Tell me, Pharaoh; do you remember me now?"

Yami wonders at this. _What game is the thief playing? _Though he answers, puzzled at being named Pharaoh. "No, I do not." It is a simple confession, one that causes Bakura's eyes to widen and the thief to bare his teeth maniacally, chuckling.

"Ah, of course." He pauses for a brief moment, lost in thought, before his enigmatic expression returns. He places a card on the field languidly. Face down, a monster card in defence mode. "Suffice to say, you and I played a sort of… _game_, many millennia ago." The Pharaoh losing his memory had not been an anticipated part of the plan he'd prepared, though that hardly mattered. He had a talent for turning unexpected situations to his advantage, and this would be no exception.

Yami no Yuugi places a card face down, mirroring Bakura's move, his face a blank mask of confidence. "I have played many shadow games in my lifetime, thief." His voice is haughty, proud. There was always a formula to it: hurt something Yami protected -- Yuugi and his friends, in this case -- and pay with defeat. A fair exchange. He sees no reason to make this encounter an exception; forgotten shadow game or no, the thief will _lose. _

"Pharaoh." Bakura's voice is deliberately teasing, harsh as he whispers in Egyptian. Yami does not register the change in language, distracted by the locking of their eyes. Dull, muted blue against crimson; a battle already raging in their heads. Bakura's gaze is half-lidded, lazy. "This is an entirely different kind of game."

A thrust of shadows, and Yami is knocked backwards abruptly. It occurs to him vaguely that the thief -- surprisingly strong for such a delicate, pale boy -- is holding his hands above his head, effectively pinning him. Survival instincts kick in, warning him to squirm, to push the thief off and banish him for _daring _to touch Yami -- and he would, he supposes, if the world would stop spinning long enough. If he wasn't so damn _disoriented. _The thief has stopped laughing, stopped smirking and is now straddling him, an unreadable expression held on his face.

"Unhand me, thief." Yami's voice - for the first time since he can remember - has lost its authority. He is shaking, though not as afraid as perhaps he should be.

Bakura continues his actions as if the Pharaoh hasn't spoken. "History has a tendency to repeat itself -- though I don't expect you'd remember that either." He laughs, though it is not such a sinister sound. He tosses his ivory locks enigmatically and lowers his face to Yami's, purring harshly. "Allow me to enlighten you."

Yami no Yuugi says nothing, all thoughts of Yuugi abandoned as he struggles with the thief. Violently, lips crush together and, as suddenly as this game began, he _remembers. _The familiar scent of musk reaches his nose, along with a vision in striking red and a smirk that could unsettle even the most steady of his guardians.

"Bakura…" He murmurs, between heated kisses, fighting for dominance and making no complaint as he loses. "I remember."

"And rightly so." Bakura is solemn now, speaking simply and in Japanese. "We will meet again, _my king_._" _Silently, he disappears into the shadows, leaving a shell-shocked Yami with a group of friends, slowly stirring in the twilight.


End file.
